A True Mentor
by Consultinghobbitlock
Summary: When John is reaped to be in the Hunger Games how will Sherlock, as his mentor, help him win? Warning, not a perfect ending.


This was written for a fic contest at fuckyeahjohnlockfanfic.

I do not own the characters or the idea of the Hunger Games. All rights belong to their respective owners.

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"John Watson!" called Marveus Fliting.

"Shit!" I mumbled as I stood on the sidelines watching as John went to join Arly Berner on the stage. "Shit shit shit shit shit!' I pinched the bridge of my nose, calming myself down and then looked up at him. His face was stony but I could see him every so often blink, just a little too long, holding back his tears. That was John, a brave face in the face of danger. But I could see, I had always been able to see, that underlying worry, and in this case: pure, unrestrained fear.

John and I had met when I was thirteen and he was fourteen . His house had been broken into and Mycroft insisted that I help out. It was tedious. The family was not much more than a bumbling mess, except for John and his older sister. The girl just eyed me the whole time, as if I was some venomous snake, lurking about her home. But John, John was intrigued. He helped me with my investigation and even praised me for my work when it was over. From then on, he hung around me. Whenever I asked him why, he simply stated that it seemed as if I needed some company. I shrugged these kind of comments off, not wanting to confirm them, but to afraid that he would leave, to scold him for the assumption.

Then, two years ago, when I was fifteen, my name had been drawn. I had been in John's situation. I had walked those steps, felt that terror. Even for someone like me, that was the dominant emotion, terror, it was the only viable emotion at the time. I had bowed and then been escorted to my room, where I awaited my goodbyes. My mother and Mycroft came. That was a short visit, with a hug from mother that just about suffocated me, and a pat on the head and a few words of advice: "Don't be stupid and get yourself killed little brother!" from Mycroft. He cared, I knew he did, that's just how he showed it. Lestrade had even come to say goodbye. He was composed and kind but I could see his hand shake as he took mine. That was one of the first times I had been really glad that John had introduced us. Then came John. He walked into the room, surprising me at first. I was in some state of shock and hadn't heard him walk in behind me, when he laid his hand, gently on my shoulder.

"Sherlock.." he whispered down to me. I turned my head to look up at him and I saw the tears carving lines in the dirt upon his face. That was the first and only time I have ever seen John cry. He sat beside me on the couch and we held hands for a moment. Then I turned to him and said, "John… I." The words wouldn't come to me. He just nodded his head and leaned forward to kiss me. John and I had kissed before but this time it was different. This time I could taste the saltiness of his tears. This time I could feel the desperation, the overwhelming worry that this might be our last chance. I pulled away and let him hug me, resting my chin ontop of his head. "I can beat them John. I can outwit all of them, you know I can. In a couple of weeks, I'll be back here and everything will be ok. I promise." I could feel my voice break and I cursed myself. Damnit. Why did I have to feel this way about him? Why did it tear my whole being apart to see him and hear him so heartbroken. It was at that moment that I knew, without a doubt that I would win. There was no way in hell that I would let John feel the pain alone, pain that I had caused.

So that's what I did. I fought and I won. I outsmarted all of them. In the end, I didn't kill a single tribute, just set it up so that one of the others would. I came out with a broken wrist, a dislocated shoulder that I had haphazardly popped back in, and a large gash running across my abdomen, but I came out alive.

I had been a mentor the previous year and now here I was again, about to get handed two kids who I would probably watch die, and one of them was John.

It was the second Quarter Quell this year. Each district had to give four tributes instead of one. I was responsible for the two on stage now. Arly and John. Calri was responsible for the other two, I couldn't even remember their names at the moment.

I watched as John and Arly bowed and were taken to their rooms to await their own goodbyes. I decided not to go to John. I would give him as much time with Harry and the rest of his family as possible. I would have my time with him later, when we could really be alone and have enough time to talk. But I already knew what I was going to have to do. I had to help John win this. I headed back to the house and grabbed my small bag, then headed to the train to await the tributes. I realized that I was starting to feel bad for Arly, seeing that I would be putting so much effort into getting John to win, but it's what I had to do. I didn't really see Arly making it out of the cornucopia anyway. She was only thirteen and extremely mousy. She looked like she was going to be sick up on the stage. No, I'd be wasting my time on Arly. I had to focus on John. It was all about him now.

An hour later we were all on the train and ready to leave. I had stayed in my room, having a fix, while I tried to figure out how to do this. It felt nice, the chemicals flowing through my body. I had started using after the I got back. I could afford it after all. John begged me to stop but I needed the escape. It was only when I was using that I wasn't attacked by nightmares, which had come day and night since the games. So there I sat in my room, the most recent needle on the side table, and I thought. I planned.

When we got to the capitol we would watch the other reapings meticulously, picking up anything about the other tributes that we could. I would show John their weaknesses, how to beat them. Then I would get started on finding him sponsors. We would have to figure out what he would do for the judges. It was too bad that guns weren't allowed in the arena, John was one of the best shots I had ever seen, and strangely, he was awful with a bow. He wasn't as nimble as I was but I would see to it that he got significant training. He could also think on his feet well, so maybe that could help him. But that wasn't the only thing I needed to figure out. I needed to find a stylist. John was very charismatic yes but in a stressful situation like this he would very easily snap on the wrong person to cross his path. He always had had a distain for Capitol ways, and the stylists were the most annoying to him. Then it hit me. I knew exactly who to get as John's stylist.

I cleaned myself up and walked out into the other train car, where John and Arly were. As I approached the door I could hear soft sobs come from inside. Then I heard John's cool, gentle voice.

"It'll be alright Arly. Sherlock is a great mentor, he'll show us how to survive. Hush hush." his voice melted as he consoled this young girl. I stayed in the hall a little longer, just listening to him speak. God how I loved his voice… I would miss that voice. No! That was why I was planning, I couldn't think like that. I shook my head and walked in. John looked up at me. Our eyes met and he looked at her, a knowing, sad expression on his face. I nodded and he pulled her close to him and kissed the top of her head, whispering "Shush. It will all be ok."

Yes, we lied to this little girl, but even I knew it was better than the truth. Give her some hope at least, train her well, but we both knew how slim her chances were.

"Come on you two, lets eat. We'll be at the Capitol soon." I headed to the table and they followed. We ate primarily in silence, the only conversation being the few times that John tried to start one, but failed miserably.

After we ate, Arly decided to go get some rest before we reached the Capitol. That gave John and I some much needed time alone. Once John had tucked the younger girl in and made sure she was asleep, he came into my room. I was sitting on the bed when he opened the door. Our eyes met and he flew to my arms.

"Oh god Sherlock! What are we going to do?" he pleaded.

Knots formed in my throat when I heard the pain in his voice. A fresh hatred of the Capitol burned through me. How dare they do this! How dare they even think of putting John through this. My John! First they had taken me into their game, leaving John alone with his worry. And now! Now it was so much worse. At least when it was me in the games I could control myself, work to protect myself in order to protect John. But now, now it was John in the heart of it. It was John who would be risking his life in order to get back to me. It was John who would watch children die around him while the Capitol cheered them on. The Capitol. The thought of it made my skin crawl. A bloodthirsty horde that cared nothing about how much I wanted keep John away from all of that, but only of their entertainment. That's all the Capitol was.

I kissed the top of his head and led him over to the couch. "I have a plan John, but you are going to have to trust me. Alright?"

He nodded. "Of course I trust you Sherlock." I grinned. John, always the loyal one.

"Alright well first of all, I'm going to train you myself. You are going to learn to evade and hide, as well as throw a knife. If you can get somewhere out of sight and take down tributes from there, you'll have a better chance, and I'm not wasting time on trying to teach you how to use a bow." At this John chuckled and nodded in agreement. "Then we need to focus on your presentation. I'm mostly going to leave that to the stylist I have chosen for you. Oh don't roll your eyes at me John. You have to have a stylist and I think I know the perfect one for you, so hush. Do you have any questions?' I looked down at him expectantly.

"Arly…" he whispered. I was about to explain when he continued. "I know. I know she doesn't have much hope, but please, at least help her." His voice cracked and he fell into my arms. "Sher… Sherlock, I'm scared. I can't do this. I can't kill these kids, but I can't leave you. Sherlock." He sobbed into my chest. "I'm so so sorry." At that my head shot up. "John, what.. What do you have to be sorry for?" Then I realized what he was saying. He couldn't win. He couldn't come home to me. I pulled him away, forcing him to look at me.

"John, you… you can't, please. Don't just give up. I know this is hard for you. Much harder than it was for me. You're a better person than I am John. That's why I need you to come home. You make me better. I'm a selfish, arrogant, prick for doing this to you I know, but you can't leave me alone. Please." My voice broke on the last word. I was desparate, more desparate than I had ever been, even in the arena. In the arena I was calm and calculated, but now, with John talking this way, I couldn't stand it. The idea of watching him die, living without him, it broke me. It felt as if my lungs were falling in on themselves, my vision blurred and the image of John's face hovered in the sky over the arena. I blinked the image away and looked at John. "Please John, let me give you a chance. Let me have some… some hope."

John stared back at me, his eyes wide with fright. He had never seen me this way before and I could tell it scared him. Part of me was glad it scared him, maybe that would convince him to try to win, for me. "Sherlock, I'm sorry I ever suggested. I didn't… I.. I'll try. I promise, just please, don't look like that." He pulled me close, now his head ontop of mine, him comforting me. "I'm sorry. I love you, Sherlock. I won't leave you alone, I promise." He pulled my chin up and kissed me, harder than he had ever kissed me before. Before I knew it we had moved to my bed, groping at the other's clothes, until they lay in a pile on the floor. Our hand's flited across each other's skin, memorizing every inch. John kissed my neck and I moaned, flipping him onto his back. I pressed my body down onto his, letting his warmth seap into me. This was our moment, our time to be the only two people in the world. The Capitol didn't exist. The games didn't exist. Just me and John. I pushed myself up to hover over him. He looked at me with those perfectly expressing eyes. His hand grazed over the scar on my stomach. I flinched just for a second at the memory of the injury, but his soft skin soothed me almost immediately. I fell down beside him, entwining my legs with his. We lay there for a little while, just staring at each other, letting our hands glide over our skin so gently. He bent his knee up between my legs and I moaned again at the ecstasy of his flesh on mine. He slipped out from between my legs and climbed to lay on top of me, kissing below my ear. My hips bucked sharply and I ran my fingers through his hair. He had let it grow out. It felt nice to let wrap the blonde wisps around my fingers.

The rest of the night was perfect. We fit together in a way that I had never let myself dream to be possible. I was happy. I was with John. My John. And for that night, there was nothing that could tear us apart.

I woke up to the sound of the train crunching to a stop. We had arrived at the capitol. I turned over to wake up John. There he lay beside me, his face soft as his eyes gently moved behind his eyelids. It killed me to wake him. Everything had been so perfect so peaceful, and now I came along to send him off to battle. I leaned over to kiss his nose and said softly, "John. We're here." He awoke almost immediately. His nerves were too frantic to allow him a deep sleep. He rubbed his eyes and looked at me for a moment, his eyes darting across my face as if he was trying to burn the image into his mind, which he was. I had done the same thing before I left for my games, gotten an image of the person I loved, the person I had to get through this for. He blinked again and then swung his legs over the edge of the bed and began to get dressed. I followed his lead and slipped out from under the sheets. But unlike John, who put on his best clothes from district three, I put on my Capitol clothes. I was a young, attractive victor and it was my… duty to do and wear as I was instructed by the Capitol. I wriggled into the tight purple shirt and sleek black pants then laced up my sharp black shoes, the ones that always made my feet feel like they were boxed in, unable to move, unable to support me. That was always my least favorite thing about my Capitol dress, the shoes. I was so restricted by them, it made me realize that I was truly prisoner to the Capitol, they had chained my feet. I shook off this thought and finished getting ready, running the crème through my hair that always made the curls stand out and fall just perfectly. Finally I turned to John, ready to go. He stared up at me, his eyes wide with shock. John had never seen me like this. Yes he had seen my outfits as tribute but this was different. As a tribute I only dressed to win, to keep myself alive, by getting sponsors. But now, now this was purely to entertain the Capitol, to make me their slave. He walked over to me and stroked his hand along my face, his eyes pleading up at me. "I… I love _you,_ Sherlock." He then pushed up and kissed me. I smiled and took his hand, leading him outside to find Arly and make sure she was ready.

Once we were off the train we headed to the Remake Center. I left John and Arly to their prep teams and went to go find the stylists. I walked into the stylist lounge and sauntered over to Tetsry, the stylist I had chosen for her. We spoke for a little while and by the end of the discussion I was feeling assured about my choice. He was gentle and chipper, though he had no true sympathy for the tributes, but he would treat the girl well. So I said my goodbyes to him and looked around for John's stylist. It took a moment but finally I saw her, sitting in a corner, reading, her hand twirling her ponytail. It walked up and bowed, extending my hand. "Hello Molly, dear." She grinned up at me, that timid, always surprised grin of hers. "Sherlock!" She stood up rather quickly and was about to hug me, when she suddenly stopped herself, embarrassed by her bolt of excitement. I grinned down and hugged her softly. "Hello, sorry for springing this on you so quickly, but you were really the only reasonable choice." I said, kissing her cheek. "Oh, oh of course, it's fine. Really. I was just a little surprised that you picked me, people so seldom do." she laughed quietly. I sat back down with her and we spoke, in hushed voices.

"Molly, I am trusting you with this. I need him to win…. He." I couldn't finish the thought. She just nodded. " I understand Sherlock. I will do every thing in my power. He will get sponsors galore. This will work dear." She smiled at me, her cheeks flushed more than usual. " Good, thank you Molly." I kissed her cheek again and stood. "Well I had best be off, and John will probably be ready for you soon. I guess I will see you later tonight." I waved and turned to the door. The rest was in Molly's hands now.

I sat, jittering, in my seat as the ceremonies began. Slowly the chariots began to file out and then came John and Arly. The crowd gasped with me at their costumes. They were glowing. Their tunics were covered in shining lights, all different colours, twinkling as the staduim lights shone down on them. John looked so majestic as he stood there, smiling that fake, but very convincing smile. He held Arly's hand, clenching it tight, grinning down at her every so often. The rest of the procession filed out and President Snow gave his usual speech. Then the tributes were taken back out to get ready for their interviews. I stood from my seat back stage and waited for them. Within a few minutes I saw John and Arly come walking down the hallway, him still holding her hand. I saw the lines cut through her makeup by her tears and bent down to speak to her. "Arly, you were beautiful out there, absolutely stunning. Just take a deep breathe and be your cute little self during your interview and you will be fine." I patted down her hair and kissed the top of her head, then turned to Tetsry. "Would you patch up her makeup?" He smiled and took her hand, leading her away. Once they were gone I turned to John, my smile almost ripping apart my face. "I knew I made the right choice with Molly, look at you two! That was perfect. John you can do this interveiw. You can get sponsors. This will work John." He just stared at me. "John. John come on, talk to me. What's wrong." His eyes had that foggy look again, the one they got when he was holding back tears. "John…"

"I am so sorry Sherlock. How have you done this all this time? I feel awful just doing this." He gestured to his costume. "How can you go around being their puppet all the time and stay so… so you?" My head dropped, a half assed laugh escaping me. "Because I have to John. I won, I did all of that for you, so that I didn't leave you. But now I have to do this.. This act so that I don't lose you. John just because I won the game doesn't mean I'm not still a piece in it."

He just stared up at me, the pain in his eyes almost devouring me. "Go on, get changed, your interview's coming up." I kissed him quickly and then sent him off. And now, I got to wait.

John's interview went well. He was charismatic and charming. He laughed and smiled and he even blushed a couple of times. I couldn't help but love Flickerman sometimes. He was always able to make the good points of a tribute stand out.

After the interviews I collected John and Arly and headed to our floor. Tetsry and Molly were getting ready to eat when we arrived.

I hadn't seen Carli and her tributes in person since we had left district five. Not that I really cared, Carli and I never had gotten along, I was perfectly content with her staying as far away from me and my tributes as possible.

Dinner was filled with small talk and more in depth introductions. It was really quite dull. Afterwards Arly went on to bed, and John, Molly, and I talked about training.

"Alright, so I can start training you tomorrow. We can work on throwing knives and agility. Those will probably be your two biggest assets. Then afterwards we'll come back here and dig up what ever we can about the other tributes." I relayed. Then I turned to Molly.

"If you can help him with his image and how to act?'

"Of course. Well, first thing is, you need to show them you are determined. You have a purpose here, not just to stay alive but for something more. They'll root for you if they think you really deserve it."

We talked for an hour or so more and then headed to bed, we would need a good night's sleep for the day ahead of us. John slept in my room that night. I curled around him, trying to hold on, terrified of someone ripping him away.

The next day we headed to the training room. I walked John through his movements, spitting out pointers as we went. By the end of it I has begun to see a hopeful amount of improvement. After we finished he saw Molly, to talk about behaviour while I gathered details on the other tributes.

"John, come on up." I paged into the room where Molly and John had been talking. A few minutes later, John walked in and sat beside me. I flicked on the television and started. "Alright, district one. Career district of course. All four of them are eighteen. Harten is huge. By the look of his shoulders he could rip a tree up by the roots, watch out for him. Tahlia is mousy but there's a glint in her eyes. She'd slice your neck in a second. Ritter is sly and fast, but I don't see her as particulary strong. Gran is manipulative, don't let him mess with your head." This breakdown of the tributes, in which I included Carli's tributes, went on until we got to twelve. "Lastly, district twelve, non career. The younger two don't seem like much, probably won't pass the cornucopia. The older girl is Maysilee. She doesn't seem that threatening but she's smart. Then there's the boy. Haymitch. He may cause some 's cocky and got a mouth on him, but he may just be able to hold up to his talk." I looked at John. "This won't be easy John. But you can do it." He nodded "I think I'm ready for bed. Goodnight." He got up then and walked to his room. That was the first night since the reaping that we hadn't slept in the same bed.

The rest of the week went smoothly. John progressed very well in his training. He got a nine from the judges in his private training. I've already gotten sponsors filing in. Things looked hopeful. After the night that I showed him the tributes he starts sleeping with me again. I held him every night as he fell asleep. Then when my eyes finally closed, it was only the warmth of his body that kept the nightmares away. But it was also the prospect of losing that warmth that jolted me awake.

Then came the morning of. Neither of us slept the night before. We just held each other, not even speaking. I kissed him as the morning light shone through the window and I dragged my body out of bed. We got ready and then headed to the roof where the hovercraft would pick John up. Before we opened the door, I turned to John and pulled him to me, kissing him. I rested my forehead against his and said, my voice cracking. "I love you John Watson, and I always will. I believe in you." His voice was barely above a whisper as he said, "I love you too Sherlock. Thank you, for everything. For being there, for loving me, for giving me something to believe in. I love you." We kissed one last time and then I opened the door, the light blinding us for a moment. Then John was whisked to the hovercraft and I was left alone. Alone. I felt so completely alone in that moment. It was as if my blood had frozen, my feet glued to the ground. I closed my eyes, wishing for the days before I had gone into the games, when it was just the two of us, happy. When I opened my eyes. The helicopter and John were gone.

The games began. John made it away from the Cornucopia with a good sized knife and other supplies. Arly made it into the forest but within the first day she was ambushed by a group of careers and killed. I watched as her face appeared in the sky over John and I let a tear fall.

I stayed in the Capitol, finding John sponsors and sending him what I could. With every gift I sent a message. Some were about strategies, others were advice, and others still were just reminding him that I loved him. He was doing very well. By the fifteenth day there were five tributes left; John, a girl from district one, the boy Haymitch from district twelve, Maysilee from twelve, and Geft, the other boy from three. We watched as Maysilee died in Haymitch's arms. We watched as Geft was picked off by the vicious nature of the arena. And then it came. John was sleeping, hidden, when the girl from district one found him. She was nimble and clever but John put up a good fight. He swung at her with his knife and had her backed into a corner. John had not killed any of the previous tributes. He had been able to get away or avoid them altogether. So right there, when he had her, he hesitated. Her hand flipped back and pulled his hair. The hair I had weaved my fingers through and found pleasure in the fact that he had grown it out. She yanked it back and exposed his throat, grabbing his knife from him. His eyes weren't scared. I could see them clearly, damn the Capitol. They were hard and calm. But as she lowered the knife to his skin, I saw a single tear slide down his face, and a look of guilt. Then there was nothing but blood and a choked off cry. She laid his body to the ground, wiping the knife in his hair, staining it red. His eyes were blank and his mouth gaped open, blood spurting up from his lips. Those lips. The lips I so loved to kiss, to watch as he spoke. John. I stood in a crowd of victors. They all gazed at the screen and turned to me. I stood motionless. My mouth clenched tight. My mind was frozen, I couldn't think. All that I felt was nothing. I didn't hurt, I didn't cry, I didn't hate. I just ached. That empty ache that you get when you lose something that you know will never come back. When you lose something that you aren't sure you can live without.

I didn't sleep for the rest of the games. I laid in bed each night, feeling all too well the coldness of the sheets, the emptyiness that I was drowning in. I got up each day and watched the games. I talked to Molly, hugging her when she cried. And then came the last day of the games.

Only Haymitch and John's killer remained. I watched as they fought and as Haymitch pulled his trick. And then I watched as the ax buried itself deep in that girl's head. Part of me, the part that needed John to be good, wanted to smile. But I had grown stronger. That's what happens when you find someone who makes you better. That's what happens when you watch them die. I felt sorry for the girl, for Haymitch, for John. They weren't killers. They were children, forced to kill in order to survive. And I was here, forced to live. I swore to myself then that I would see the downfall of the Capitol before I died. I would stop this treachery. I was broken… yes. But I was still strong.

Twenty five years later I watched as Katniss and her group escaped the Third Quarter Quell. I watched as the rebellion began, as the power of The Mockingjay spread. I watched as I started the rebellion in three. I watched as Snow was taken from power. And then I watched as The Games were brought to an end. I looked up at the image of Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch's girl, and I smiled.

"Good on you Haymitch. That's a true mentor!"


End file.
